Content warning: implied self-harm ideation.
No. No. She couldn't. Out into the fields I hurtled, blindly stumbling through the snow. I had to stop her. How could I get back to her, when there were no ships that would risk winter on the seas? Could I somehow talk to the wyvern-stars and get help? Mountains. Up on the peaks somewhere, as high as I could get, maybe there my magicless voice would be heard. By Jornin, keep her safe, help me, somehow, please! Argenti, keep your light clear and bright for me! Lumen, slender and svelte as you are this midnight, guide me truly!
On through the white, glittering snow, onwards to the Glawyn Ranges. Through all the moonlit night, dawn twilight, sunrise, still steadily progressing towards the mountains. Then hiking up, treading indistinct tracks, climbing steep gullies and over snowbanks and long-ago fallen trees, ever still closer to the peak as Stella took up her place in the pale ice sky.
At last, as Stella hesitated at the horizon, I stood atop the mountain under the endless sky. I drew in a deep breath, preparing myself.
"Lucarih'thën, Hë'ӧðinðuhl, Ëtacihruðuhl, any wyvern-star who hears!, heed my cry! Help me somehow, help me stop Ris, help me get to her and show her she's not alone and we love her. Please." I reached outwards, searching for some sign, my desperate words hanging in the air and slowly dissipating, waiting... waiting... waiting... But no answer came from the darkening sky, and I fell to my knees and wept.
Then, faintly, worried and restlessly seeking voices came calling my name, growing stronger and filling my head. Wyvern-stars? No, these voices did not carry their majestic weight. It was Kestrel and Leyin. They fell on me, questions scrambling to escape them, demanding where I was and what was happening. I told them, and together we resolved to find Ris as soon as the snow began melting, and I reluctantly picked myself up to go back to the abbey. The wyvern-stars had heartlessly not answered, had not heard. But my friends had, and I desperately wanted to believe it was their small provision.
Hold on, Ris, please. I'm bringing you our friends, I'm coming back. You're not alone, I swear it.
But the hard thing is that everything we thought we could fix actually fell apart after the quest, and I don't really believe it can all be put back together entirely and without immortally unhealing scars. To have so determinedly struggled to do something right for once and still fall short is a harrowing and heavy burden to bear.
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When The Moons And Mirrors Rise
Fantasy***TW: minor character death at the end of Part 1 (ch.42), resulting in intense grief and reactions in Part 2 (including implied SH/su!c!de ideation)*** Ris' twin sister is the chosen one, but she is a Cursed -- how can she save the Cursed and Encha...
